Burning with zeal
by Fashionably Emaciated
Summary: Two friends carry out their grim but necessary duties.


In an empty bar in Washington, over the blaring of the jukebox, Timothy asked me "Have you ever heard of the singularity?"  
"No." I said. "Did you say _the_ singularity or _a_ singularity? Isn't that like a black hole or something?"  
"No, no. I'm talking about something completely different. Not an astrological phenomenon," (he badly slurred the word _astrological_. He'd been drinking, even though we were supposed to remain sober while on the job) "... I'm referring to an event. I'm referring to the day when technology conquers the limits of human mortality. What do you think will become of our nemesis then?" He lifted an eyebrow. I could see what he was getting at.  
"I suppose it would eliminate one of the major differences between us. They would no longer be these ancient and aloof predators, preying on the ignorant and helpless masses. They would be reduced practically to the status of cannibals. Just another kind of murderer... hmmm. Food for thought alright."

I quickly turn off the engine to the SUV, open the door, and run around to the back. Tim puts on his flak vest, zips it up, and pulls a tiger-striped balaclava over his face. I pull the rifles out of the back, and he nods as I hand him his carbine.  
"There aren't any forks on that trail for a ways, so we know where they're going. I think they'll probably stop near that cliff overlooking the river." He says this as I load my bolt-action rifle. The ammunition was custom designed back at The Farm. The open tip of each round has been filled with trace elements of everything we could think of which might kill a vampire.  
Silver.  
Holy water.  
The ground-up remains of religious relics.  
Uranium.  
Cyanide.  
This was going to be an experiment. You see, we hadn't determined whether any of this would work. Our methods for the past century or so had always been startlingly primitive (crossbows, impaling with spears and such), or far too overt (flamethrowers, aeriel bombardment). If this worked, our job would become much easier.  
I pulled on my balaclava and we breathelessly sprinted into the damp, cold forest.

"I mean, what even _is_ a vampire? _Seriously_!" I can tell at this point that he's having a hard time staying upright. "What are they? Aliens? Mutants? Demons? Fuck them! They think they can treat us like cattle, and kill us off bit by bit. Fucking parasites... we should have taken care of them a long time ago."  
I grinned, and thrust a beer into the air. "I'll drink to that!"

Before we crest the hill, we spray ourselves with deer-scent, just in case. We cautiously crawl forward, and I see something shimmering about half a klick away.  
"There they are." I say. "They're sitting on those rocks." My scope brings them into sharp focus. I can see the expressions on their faces clearly. It's almost as if I could reach my hand out and touch them.  
Tim pulls out his binoculars. We watch them talk for a minute. "I think she's saying something like; 'your sparkling skin is so cool! Did I ever tell you I always wanted an undead boyfriend."  
I join in. "And I think he just said; 'Please show me this thing you humans call 'love"  
Tim suppresses a chuckle as I place my cross hairs on the vampire's chest and start breathing slower. I watch the reticle twitch in time to my heartbeat.

Timothy excused himself to go vomit in the restroom. Left to my own devices, I began to reflect. Tim and I had been working together for a few years, both of us working for the Organization for Pandemic Control and Research (which was a pretty accurate title, in a way). Technically it was a private organization, but we had the support of several governments. Tim, in fact, had recently been a pathologist for the CIA. He had joined us with their blessing.  
Me personally? I had been a member of this group for most of my life. It actually ran in the family, although when my father was still alive it more closely resembled a religious secret society than a modern intelligence organization. Some things remained the same, however. We still wore crucifixes (regardless of our personal beliefs), and we still took an oath of secrecy. We still spent most of our time hunting what we still call 'vampires' (for lack of a better term).

The rifle fires, and I feel instant satisfaction when I see that it was a good shot. We both get up and start running to where the girl is standing over the bleeding vampire. His skin shimmers brightly from the sunlight.  
As we approach, the vampire grabs her arm, and pulles it toward him. He bites.  
"Shit!" We both know that if he drinks enough of her blood he'll be on his feet and out of here before we can do anything. I kneel and try to control my breathing, trying to get a good shot at the vampire. Tim brings up his carbine and snaps off two shots into the girl. She falls over backwards.  
We exchange glances, and walk over to where the vampire lies wheezing with a hole in his lung. "Fucking vampires." I say. We shoot him a few more times.  
Tim sits on a rock and scans the treeline as I call it in over my cell phone.  
"One victor has been contained. I'll need a disposal team. One civilian casualty by the name of..." I read the ID card from the girl's wallet "Swan. You know what? Scratch the disposal team. Have a jet drop napalm, we'll be out of here within fifteen minutes."  
We start heading back to our car as jets take off from a base in New Mexico, ready to burn everything within a kilometer of here. Fire is the oldest method, and sometimes the old ways are the best ways.


End file.
